Artist Highlight: Fabiola Larios
Image by Pedro Wazzan, 2024.
Meet Fabiola Larios, a resident Bakehouse artist whose multidisciplinary practice focuses on probing the convergence of technology, identity, and representation in the digital age. Through her work with AI, net-art, and computers, she questions our comprehension of the self and the influence of the internet, especially social media, on our existence.
Her installations, produced with e-waste, surveillance cameras, mannequins, glitter, gemstones, LEDs, and girly aesthetics, evoke a sense of warmth and nostalgia while simultaneously challenging viewers to consider the environmental toll of technology. Larios’ work invites audiences to ponder personal data and critically examine our digital lives, exploring the ramifications of how the intimate details of our lives are exploited by corporations and governments.
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Can you tell us about your artistic practice?
My artistic practice explores the intersections of technology, surveillance, digital culture, and personal memory. I often use e-waste, discarded electronics, and video art to create installations that reflect on how digital presence shapes identity, control, and perception. My work incorporates themes of cuteness, bedazzled aesthetics, and elements from my own childhood, blending them with darker, more critical reflections on internet culture, privacy, and environmental issues. I like to create immersive experiences that invite viewers to question their relationship with technology in cute yet unsettling ways.
Tell us about a personal artistic project or body of work that you are currently excited about.
Photography by Zaire Aranguren (@zairephoto). Image courtesy of The Bass, Miami Beach.
Photography by Zaire Aranguren (@zairephoto). Image courtesy of The Bass, Miami Beach.
I’m particularly excited about a new project that mixes childhood nostalgia with the theme of surveillance (similar to that of Surveillance Cutie or PrincessCam Dreamland). The project reflects my experience of growing up in a Catholic household, my mom would remind me that “God is always watching.” It sounds funny now, but it made me super aware of being seen, and I want to capture that feeling of there being an invisible eye on me. I enjoy integrating Y2K aesthetics into dystopian surveillance aesthetics.
In regards to PrincessCam Dreamland, I enjoy seeing the diverse reactions it sparks—some people take pictures, while others express themselves more aggressively, even going so far as to spit on the glass over the surveillance cameras.
Tell us about how you have developed as an artist since you began working at Bakehouse.
Photography by Zaire Aranguren (@zairephoto). Image courtesy of The Bass, Miami Beach.
Since I started at Bakehouse, I’ve been working a lot more with this juxtaposition of surveillance and “girly” nostalgia as two converging themes. I’ve been bedazzling everything— flat TVs, CRT TVs, laptops, and surveillance cameras of all kinds. In exploring these themes, I’ve moved from smaller pieces to bigger installations, those of which have been shown at the National Museum of Guatemalan Art and the Chroma Art Film Festival.
In my time at Bakehouse, I have also had the amazing opportunity to be part of Sea Change, a group exhibition on view at the Pérez Art Museum Miami. The exhibition presents a 3-channel video projection that chronicles the internet’s evolution—from its early, untamed days to the rise of surveillance capitalism and data collection. At the same time, one of the biggest highlights of my residency was getting the opportunity to show PrincessCam Dreamland at the Walgreens windows, in collaboration with the Bass Museum and Bakehouse Art Complex. That was huge for me!
Ultimately, working here has been an amazing part of my artistic journey. I’ve grown so much, especially in terms of creating large-scale installations and having my work reach more people. I’m really grateful for it.